Art Post: We Three Kings
"What happened, Sammy?" he murmured.
Sam rubbed his eyes on his sweatshirt. "I came home around eight," he said slowly. "I was tired...went upstairs to read and fell asleep. Woke up at eleven and I was starving. Went downstairs and pulled some chicken out of the fridge, but it tasted like shit." He glanced around nervously, as if cursing would prove his weakness or addiction. Dean continued to smooth his hair. "I dumped a bunch of salt on it. Couldn't taste it, so I added more." His breath hitched, and his chin hit his knees again. Cas rubbed his thumb lightly over the top of his friend's shin. "I was so damn stupid..."
"They'd mixed it in the shaker?" Cas asked calmly. Sam closed his eyes as a tear slipped from underneath.
"Said they were prepping when the house-leader walked in early. Dumped their stash in the salt as a cover." His breath hitched harshly. "I swear I didn't know until I started to feel it. I made myself puke...drank water...but it was too late. I got straight here, but no one believed me." His jaw clenched, hard. "They want to put me back in lock-down. I can't...I can't...I've got a job. I got a job, Dean," he pleaded, grabbing his brother's wrist. Dean nodded slowly. "I was...I was clean. I thought I was just...eating a bad dinner..." his voice cracked and his face disappeared beneath his hands. Cas glanced to his boyfriend and recognized, all too clearly, the look of guilt: Sam lied, yes. Sam had lied about money, about his whereabouts, about his friends, and about the drugs he took. But Sam had lied with defiance, nastiness, and confidence. This--the shaking, the sobbing, the defeat--was no lie.
Leave it to Dean to feel guilty for doubting a brother who'd lied too many times to count because, for once, he was telling the truth.
"You did the right thing coming here once you knew," Cas soothed. "And calling us."
"They want to lock me up." Sam's eyes were huge, damp, brown. "Please don't let them lock me up. I didn't do it on purpose. I just want an extra bit of valium. I threw it up, I swear. I just...Cas, I need valium."
Cas rubbed his friend's knee. "Let me go see," he soothed. He stood and made toward the nurses' window.
Story Link: We Three Kings
Sam rubbed his eyes on his sweatshirt. "I came home around eight," he said slowly. "I was tired...went upstairs to read and fell asleep. Woke up at eleven and I was starving. Went downstairs and pulled some chicken out of the fridge, but it tasted like shit." He glanced around nervously, as if cursing would prove his weakness or addiction. Dean continued to smooth his hair. "I dumped a bunch of salt on it. Couldn't taste it, so I added more." His breath hitched, and his chin hit his knees again. Cas rubbed his thumb lightly over the top of his friend's shin. "I was so damn stupid..."
"They'd mixed it in the shaker?" Cas asked calmly. Sam closed his eyes as a tear slipped from underneath.
"Said they were prepping when the house-leader walked in early. Dumped their stash in the salt as a cover." His breath hitched harshly. "I swear I didn't know until I started to feel it. I made myself puke...drank water...but it was too late. I got straight here, but no one believed me." His jaw clenched, hard. "They want to put me back in lock-down. I can't...I can't...I've got a job. I got a job, Dean," he pleaded, grabbing his brother's wrist. Dean nodded slowly. "I was...I was clean. I thought I was just...eating a bad dinner..." his voice cracked and his face disappeared beneath his hands. Cas glanced to his boyfriend and recognized, all too clearly, the look of guilt: Sam lied, yes. Sam had lied about money, about his whereabouts, about his friends, and about the drugs he took. But Sam had lied with defiance, nastiness, and confidence. This--the shaking, the sobbing, the defeat--was no lie.
Leave it to Dean to feel guilty for doubting a brother who'd lied too many times to count because, for once, he was telling the truth.
"You did the right thing coming here once you knew," Cas soothed. "And calling us."
"They want to lock me up." Sam's eyes were huge, damp, brown. "Please don't let them lock me up. I didn't do it on purpose. I just want an extra bit of valium. I threw it up, I swear. I just...Cas, I need valium."
Cas rubbed his friend's knee. "Let me go see," he soothed. He stood and made toward the nurses' window.
Story Link: We Three Kings